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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956327">Be Cool</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsushi01/pseuds/demonsushi01'>demonsushi01</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Klance Trope Month 2k20 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Innuendo, Keith breaks Jame's nose, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Keith (Voltron), They're both Juniors so about 17, but i draw the lines at block paragraphs, i hate that it doesn't leave my indents for paragraphs, i wasnt going to fight it at first but it looks ugly so, ive long since given up on making the italics look proper, mentions of fighting, minor blood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:21:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsushi01/pseuds/demonsushi01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 01. Meet Cute</p><p>Keith, with his knuckles covered in Hello Kitty and TMNT and a bag of ice over his eye, get sent to the principal's office where a familiar face sits on those awful, uncomfortable, plastic yellow chairs with him. He just needs to be cool and hope he doesn't scare the cute boy away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Klance Trope Month 2k20 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>283</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Be Cool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Me: Hmm should I focus on my mutli-chapter fic or do a bunch of one-shots?</p><p>I'm so sorry lol</p><p>Promise that it won't actually stall me on updating Stoneheart for yall &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Keith hisses when the nurse presses a small ziplock bag of ice to the slowly forming bruise over his eye. She lets go when he takes it over and she clicks her tongue as she passes him the single baby aspirin the school allows students to take. With that, she approves him to go to the principal’s office. Keith makes sure to give Griffin a dirty glare, flipping him off for good measure.</p><p> “See you in hell.” He hisses. Griffin rolls his eyes and lets the nurse tut and try to patch him up. Keith’s proud he broke the jerk’s nose among other things and hopes the nurse struggles to fix the guy. </p><p>        The final bell rings out and Keith is so tempted to slip away with the masses, consequences be damned. But ditching will most likely lead to suspension or worse, expulsion, considering his and Griffin’s worsening attitudes toward one another. Keith’s only peace of mind in knowing that whatever happens to him, Griffin will experience too. Most likely, another set of ISS to complete at best, OSS at worst. </p><p>        But that’s only <em> if </em> Keith goes to the office like he’s supposed to. He groans, stalling for time by going to get his backpack from his sixth-period classroom, then his skateboard from his second-period art teacher. He shakes his head when he sees the sorry state Keith’s in. It’s nothing new. He slips back out before the art club crawls in.</p><p>        Keith even makes an effort to stop and get himself a drink from the vending machine on the other side of campus before sighing and slowly wheeling himself over to the office like he’s supposed to be at. The office assistant gives him a look as he walks in, one that clearly reads how disappointed they are, but he’s used to that look. </p><p>        He’s a disappointment. A loser. One Grade-A asshole. It’s nothing new and he’s long since accepted his fate to be chewed up and spat back out into a society that still functions like high school but on a grander scale. A society that hates his guts.</p><p>        Keith doesn’t even register the boy sitting in the uncomfortable, yellow plastic chairs that designate themselves as a ‘waiting room’ for the principal. He just sits down heavily, tossing his bag into the seat next to him and resting his feet on his board. He rolls it back and forth, staring at his bloody knuckles with Hello-Kitty and Michaelangelo smiling vacantly back up at him. The ziplock bag with the designated three ice-cubes is starting to drip down his face and he grimaces at the feeling.</p><p> “Your ice is melting.” Says a voice Keith so painfully recognizes. </p><p>        It’s the voice that has been haunting him in his daydreams of a better life outside of the mess that is school. It’s the voice that follows him into his night-time thoughts, dreams of things that don’t matter or make any sense past <em> him </em>. It’s the voice he so often thinks about when his hormones get the best of him leaving his hands sticky afterward. </p><p> “What?” Keith manages to choke out and makes himself face the other boy waiting to see the principal. </p><p> “Your ice.” Lance McClain, third row in Keith’s bio class, second row in his Spanish class, school flirt and most likely to run for student body president next school year when they’re both seniors as a crowning achievement beyond prom king. “It’s melting.” He gestures to the mostly liquid bag Keith is cradling to his eye.</p><p> “Oh.” He answers dumbly. His brain has short-circuited, trying to figure out why in the <em> world </em> Lance motherfuckin’ McClain is talking to him. </p><p> “You… need a tissue or something for it?” Lance asks.</p><p> “Nah.” <em> Be cool, </em>Keith tells himself like this isn’t the start of several dozens of fantasies he’s had, both clean and not. He’d hope for less blood on his person for it, but hey, beggars and choosers and what not.</p><p> “Okay.” Lance nods.</p><p> “It’s free water,” Keith says and groans internally at himself for it. He pulls the bag away and Lance hisses. Keith touches the tender skin and has little doubt it will be quite the black eye.</p><p> “I’d ask if you’re okay but…”</p><p> “You should see the other guy.” Keith huffs a soft laugh as he leans back in his seat. </p><p> “Is he in a coffin?” Lance smirks and it catches him off-guard.</p><p> “Yeah man, the nurse is reviving him the best she can.” </p><p> “Hope she has a phoenix down then. Who was it? I want to be able to write them a lovely obit.”</p><p> “Griffin,” Keith grunts. “James Griffin.”</p><p> “Oh, then I take that back. He probably deserved it.” Lance nods, leaning back as well. </p><p> “You waiting for the principal?” Keith asks.</p><p> “Yep, called out of sixth just to wait. Can you believe?”</p><p> “Yeah, actually.” </p><p> “Frequent flyer?” Lance raises a brow.</p><p> “Oh yeah.” Keith nods and raises the ziplock to his lips. </p><p> “Why?” He tilts his head. Keith gestures to himself as he nibbles a hole in the corner of the bag, sucking the water out much to Lance’s disgust. </p><p> “What does that mean?”</p><p> “It means I’m clearly a delinquent.” He says, crumpling the now empty ziplock up and stuffing it into his pocket for now.</p><p> “Alright, Kogane.” Lance rolls his eyes. For the third time, Keith is floored. </p><p> “You know my name?”</p><p> “Of course I do. You sit in the back of bio with Mrs. Holt and Spanish with Mr. Ramirez.” </p><p> “I… didn’t think anyone paid attention.” </p><p> “Dude, you threatened a kid for sitting in your seat during bio last week.” Lance points out.</p><p> “It was <em> my </em> seat.” Keith rolls his eyes.</p><p> “Also I think your accent’s cute in Spanish.” He shrugs nonchalantly as if that doesn’t rip the rug out from under Keith’s feet or make his guts squirm in a rush of giddiness. <em> Be cool, be cool </em>.</p><p> “I think yours sounds good. In Spanish.” <em> Nailed it. </em></p><p> “I’d hope so, it’s my first language.” </p><p> “Ah, so, it’s your easy A class.” Keith nods.</p><p> “I wish. Just because I can speak it doesn’t mean my writing isn’t atrocious.” Lance laughs. It’s such a beautiful sound.</p><p> “What are you in for?” He asks him, genuinely curious as to how a boy as good as Lance ends up waiting here during after school hours.</p><p> “Hmm, I suppose I <em> could </em> tell you.” Lance taps his chin.</p><p> “But you won’t?” Keith guesses.</p><p> “Not without you paying the toll.” He crosses his arms and smirks.</p><p> “Of course. What is it?”</p><p> “Tell me what happened to you.” He says. </p><p>        There are two ways this could go. Either Keith is one-hundred percent honest and tells the boy he might have some serious feelings for the nitty-gritty details of a schoolyard fight, one that’s probably been recorded and put all over the internet. Or he could deny it all. </p><p><em>         He has such pretty eyes. </em> Keith thinks as he should be deciding what to say. His eyes trace the shape of his nose, his lips, the curve of his jaw and he shakes himself out of it. <em> Be cool </em>. </p><p> “Griffin and I have been fighting since middle-school. We had the same lunch bag and he accused me of stealing his and it all goes downhill from there.” Keith says.</p><p> “Wow.” Lance whistles.</p><p> “Today though, it was about me ‘apparently’ stealing his girl. Because y’know, Keith isn’t a basic ass name that what, ten other kids in this school have?” He glares down at Michelangelo.</p><p> “Oh yeah! There’s you, Keith C., Irish Keith, Math Keith, Kharris.” Lance starts counting.</p><p> “Exactly my point. And if any one of those Keiths are a hoe it’s Keith Harris.” </p><p> “Yeah, I hear he gets around a lot.” </p><p> “Griffin just assumed it was me since we already have bad blood.” </p><p> “So what, he went up and decked you or something?”</p><p> “Nah, texted me.”</p><p> “You have his <em> number </em>?”</p><p> “We’ve had to do school projects together!”</p><p> “Oh my god.”</p><p> “Anyway! He texted ‘ditch fifth and meet me by the bleachers’.”</p><p> “Dude, that sounds like…”</p><p> “Vaguely sexual?” Keith nods. “Yeah, he’s not that great with words. I told him to piss off and then ditched sixth to meet him instead.”</p><p> “Why didn’t you dip out on fifth?”</p><p> “It’s Spanish.” Keith shrugs. He wasn’t about to ditch class where he could stare at the back of Lance’s head and try to find the courage in his heart to speak with him during speech practice.</p><p> “Aww. You’d miss me wouldn’t you?” Lance teases and Keith glances away.</p><p> “Anyway. We meet, we throw down. I definitely broke his nose. <em> Again </em>.”</p><p> “And he gave you a baby black eye.”</p><p> “And I kneed him in the gut and did quite a number of other punches and shit.” </p><p> “And shit.” Lance echoes softly with a head shake. “Aren’t you worried about getting expelled? Or like, I dunno, <em> arrested </em>?”</p><p> “His friend records the whole thing and Griffin swings first eighty percent of the time.”</p><p> “And the other twenty percent?”</p><p> “Are when Kinkade is absent.” Keith shrugs. Lance snickers and the two fall into a comfortable silence. </p><p> “Okay Badtz-Maru --”</p><p> “Who?” Keith furrows his brows. Lance chuckles and leans over, pointing to the grumpy looking penguin next to Hello Kitty.</p><p> “Or would you prefer, Raphael?” </p><p> “...Raph’s cool.” </p><p> “Of course he is.” Lance rolls his eyes with a knowing smile. “<em> Anyway </em>, I think you paid the toll.” He leans back to sit in his seat properly and Keith already misses the closeness.</p><p> “I better have.”</p><p> “I’m up here because --” The door to the principal’s office opens up as the man in question steps out. </p><p> “McClain?” He smiles. <em> Oh no. </em></p><p> “Yes sir.”</p><p> “Come on in.” </p><p> “Thank you, sir.” Lance gives Keith an apologetic look as he steps into the principal’s office. </p><p>        Keith sits on those uncomfortable, yellow plastic chairs, wheeling his board back and forth. <em> What </em> did <em> Lance do? </em> Keith finds himself picking at the dried blood that had pooled between his fingers the nurse had missed on her clean up. He gets antsy, anxious, especially as Lance very quickly steps back out. The principal pats him on the back and Lance beams, holding a piece of paper close to himself. </p><p> “Lance?” Keith stands. </p><p> “Oh right! Ta-dah!” Lance shows him the paper. It’s an award, signed by both the principal and vice-principal. <em> Perfect Attendance. </em> </p><p> “Kogane. My office. Now.” The man grunts. Keith looks from the principal to Lance and the paper.</p><p> “This is why I was up here. Now you know!” Lance laughs. </p><p> “That’s…” Not at all what Keith had been expecting.</p><p> “I know right? Hey, it was nice talking to you!” He reaches out and claps Keith’s arm. “Don’t get yourself suspended okay? I wanna be able to hang out with you again.” He squeezes the arm in his hand gently and Keith nods in awe once again. <em> Hang out? With me? </em></p><p> “Why?”</p><p> “Because you seem cool.” Lance shrugs and then salutes him, walking out of the office. Keith stares after him, wondering if this <em> really </em> had happened or not.</p><p> “Kogane!” The principal barks and Keith jolts.</p><p> “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Can you tell I've never been to the principal's office during my years of high school? I was supposed to have lunch with the principal because of perfect attendance, but I didn't know where it was so I ended up not going, which in hindsight is pretty hilarious.</p><p>Feel free to drop me a line here or over at demon-sushi at Tumblr, I do my best to respond to every comment &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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